


A Bit Less Pride And Every Bit Of Courage

by EdmondJames_Dantes



Category: NCIS
Genre: Anger Management, Assumptions, Episode references, First Fight, Getting Together, Happy Ending, It's possible I overdid it with the Italics, Lack of Communication, M/M, Masturbation, Sex, Sorry Not Sorry, Stand Alone, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 08:06:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8393764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdmondJames_Dantes/pseuds/EdmondJames_Dantes
Summary: Ziva lives. Tony takes in her and Tali after the attempted assassination. And Gibbs freaks out, on top of already freaking out.





	

Gibbs can admit to himself, in the privacy of his own mind, that he is perhaps more proud of his self-appointed title of _second B for bastard_ than is wise or needed. Plenty of the time, that pride is beneficial: taking pride in the insult lessens the pleasure that others might take in flinging it at him.  The simple fact is, plenty of the time, taking the time to be polite or courteous can be a hindrance, or even a hazard, to an investigation or hot case, when there are lives on the line, and every second counts. Besides, _he's got Tony_ to talk and play nice and smile at other people.

 

Sometimes though, sometimes, Gibbs wishes that he had a bit less pride. Especially in that _second B for bastard_.  Because, sometimes, to be proud of something, is reason enough to live up to it. Even, sometimes, reason enough to use it as an excuse. Like, _well, you know I'm a bastard, what were you expecting, Tony? For me to change?_

 

In hindsight, it's pretty fucking arrogant of him to have a rule that says he's wrong only _some_  of the time. Gibbs can admit that, to himself. Still, the rule serves as a reminder, and while the phrasing might need work, he can be arrogant, so _he clearly needs the reminder._

 

Even so, after all these years, he had never seriously considered the idea that he might lose _Anthony Loyal  to the Fucking Death DiNozzo_ because of his own pride in being a bastard. But to discover that Tony and Ziva had had a _child - a daughter -_ Tali - together in the aftermath of that _fucking brazen attempt of assassination by fire_ , Gibbs had made one stupid callous comment - just one, but obviously one too many, after months of him outwardly being a bastard and inwardly freaking out. Tony had _looked_ at him, silently and calmly, and _looked_ at him until Gibbs had lowered his eyes and hung his head, ashamed of himself. Then Tony had said to him that he was " _done with this bullshit_ ," radiating ice as he collected his stuff, and said to Vance that he'd be back, with a flippant " _when and if I damn well feel like it, sir."_

 

That had been almost two months back. Since then, he'd only heard from Tony once. After seven weeks of Gibbs snapping at Tim and Ellie, and making Jimmy turn pale with his glares, and having Leon match him growl for growl, and even Abby and Ducky receiving blasts from his hot temper, _someone_ had _somehow_ gotten in touch with Tony and the man had turned up on his door step. Just as Gibbs had been reaching for the door handle, strong hands  spun him around to face Tony's blazing eyes and even as Gibbs tried to stop his instinctive punch that came from being successfully snuck up on, Tony had caught his wrist with all the skill, speed, and grace that he might use to pluck a basketball out of the air.

 

Tony had leaned in close, and sheer panic had surged through Gibbs at having _Tony's lips_ that close to his own and he'd scrambled backwards even as Tony kept leaning in and pressed him firmly against his own front door. Tony just _looked_ at him, again. _"Quit taking out your frustrations on other people. Taking everything you've got is my job. Be it in our work life or our personal life."_  The intensity burning in Tony's eyes had held Gibbs in place as surely as Tony's strong hands. Then Tony had stepped back, his arms falling open in the classic _I mean no harm_ pose, and he had smirked lightly. "Quit panicking, Gibbs, I'm taking a hiatus, I've not handed in my resignation. Which you would know if you ever talked with our co-workers and director, instead of shouting at them."

 

And then Tony had been gone. Whirled around, stylish coat swirling in the wind just a bit, and sauntered off, leaving Gibbs unbalanced: somehow feeling safer than he had in five weeks and yet also like he was teetering on the edge of a cliff. But most of all, despite his need to do so, he was left unwilling to call or run after Tony, for fear of showing off the arousal that was burning him alive. Gibbs had let his door hold him up until he got his breath back, only to rip it open with shaking hands, slam it shut, and collapse back against it. He had shoved his hands into his briefs to frantically pull at his dick and rub his balls. He'd awkwardly jerked off like it was do or die, until he was shuddering with the memory of Tony's knowing little smirk beneath his closed eyelids, until his orgasm had him arching his spine and slamming his head back against the door, repeatedly, until little stars danced across his vision, and he was _utterly wrecked._

 

Gibbs had made his way into work the following morning, feeling unsure but _good_ , unable to not trust Tony's word that this hellhole without him would _not_ be forever. That little simmer of good lasted only until he got to the bullpen and Tim stuttered - fucking _stuttered_ like the probie he no longer was - his greeting to him, and Ellie only hesitantly said " _Hello"_ like she was expecting to get her head bitten off for it. A stone had lodged itself in Gibbs' throat at their obvious fear. He had stared at them, his team, his friends, and wondered what the hell they were still sticking around for, because he sure as hell didn't deserve them. So he had gathered up all of his courage, _"Hey Tim, Ellie. Can we find somewhere to talk?  I owe you guys an apology."_  

 

Gibbs had sat his kids down in the conference room and explained that he'd had some personal stuff going on that he'd been taking out on them. He'd broken his rule and actually said the words, " _I'm sorry, I'm so sorry_ ," and though he couldn't bring himself explain what exactly had been going on, he had _promised_ to Tim and Ellie that he was done using them as verbal punching bags. Tim had forgiven him instantly, because despite no longer hero-worshipping Gibbs in that dangerous, Superman, _He can't do anything wrong_ way, Gibbs was well aware that Tim still fundamentally thought of him as a mix between big brother and surrogate father, and in Tim's eyes forgiveness is just what you did for the people you love and call family.

 

Ellie knew better. How could she not? Gibbs knew that she was the only member of Team Gibbs to have had a healthy and happy childhood with parents who had worked to ensure that _Eleanor Bishop_ could be proud of _them_. Eyes burning and voice wobbling, Ellie told him that he could have one second chance. But only one _. "You've been a second dad to me these last couple of years, but good dads don't treat their kids the way you've been treating us for the past couple of months. You pull this kind of shit ever again and I'll get out, Gibbs."_   He had solemnly nodded his acknowledgement. And then he'd pulled Ellie into a tight hug as she had promptly burst into tears, her hands reaching out for him.

 

Gibbs had spent a good hour or so catching up with Tim and Ellie, starting to reconnect with them, all the while knowing that the damage he'd done would take time to heal (refusing to think that it might not). But the three of them had left that conference room once more a team, once more united, and Gibbs was certain that with time they would rebuild the trust he had shaken. He had spent the remainder of the day obeying rule 45: cleaning up his own mess; he had taken aside various other co-workers to apologise and had received raised eyebrows and rightfully furious words and heartfelt forgiveness, and by the end of the day, he was totally, abso-fucking-lutely emotionally exhausted. _Words had always been DiNozzo's weapon or olive branch of choice, not his._

 

The next day, he and his team caught a hot case. Well, a volcanic-hot case: a mass grave containing upwards of fifty - _goddamned fifty -_ corpses had been found (Abby had taken to calling it " _Dexter's dumping ground")_. They had a serial killer on the loose. So, work had gone back to usual, or at least, Gibbs thought, _as usual as it could be without Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo,_ and damn, he could have used Tony's help, his intuition, his imaginative way of thinking, on this doozy of a case.

 

Instead, it was weeks later and three months to the day of his leaving that Tony strode out of the elevator into the bullpen, looking as handsome as ever in a crisp black suit, dark aviators, and a pearly white grin. To Gibbs, Tony looked beautiful as fuck. Then Tony removed his aviators to reveal sparkling green eyes, and Gibbs was paralysed.

 

"Hey Gibbs," said Tony, still striding forward with that casual confidence, smiling gently and easily hugging him, arms looping around his shoulders reminiscent of the way he'd done so when Gibbs had returned from Mexico.  "Long time, no see, buddy," rumbled Tony, each word a hot puff against Gibbs' ear and neck. Gibbs couldn't move, nor breathe, and then Tony was letting him go, slowly moving away, Tony's hands sliding down his biceps to hold his forearms.

 

Gibbs swallowed, then inhaled. "Hi Tony." Gibbs hated the way he could feel a shy smile stealing over his lips.

 

Only to love its response when Tony grinned broadly at him, and winked. "I missed you something awful. Next time I go on holiday, I think I'm gonna have to kidnap you instead of Ziva and her kid."

 

Gibbs blinked at that, but didn't have time to respond as Tony's eyes shifted to over Gibbs' shoulder and he called out, "Timmy! Ellie! How are my kids!"

 

All of a sudden Gibbs was aware of where Tony's hands had been burning his skin even through the layers of his suit jacket and shirt as he removed them to brush by Gibbs, giving yet another burn as their shoulders rubbed on his way past. Gibbs felt shell-shocked. The world at once too bright and too distant. The odd sensation of unreality lasted through Tony reuniting with their team-mates, and their co-worker friends, and all of his acquaintances, agents that had missed his leashing of Gibbs, and practically everyone because even Leon came down from his throne - flippancy forgiven - to formally " _Welcome back,_ _Special Agent DiNozzo_."

 

Hours later, alone in his basement, Gibbs played at being cool, calm, and collected, sitting on his stool and working on his nearly finished boat _(The Anthony_ sounded good in his head, but it also made Gibbs want to punch something) _._ Pretending that he wasn't waiting impatiently for Tony to turn up on his doorstep once more, pretending that his fingers were trembling from exhaustion despite the surprising good night's sleep he'd gotten and not from nerves that Tony might lean in close again, might whisper in his ear again, might touch him anywhere Tony damn well pleased.

 

Gibbs lay down his chisel and little hammer, and flexed his hands, trying to even out his breathing. If only Tony had been just a pretty face, Gibbs was certain he wouldn't be so fucked up by his mere existence, as if any or all of Tony could be considered _mere_. But no, beyond his good looks and even with his faults, Tony was also brave, kind, and loyal, he was everything that Gibbs had never dared to ask for.

 

Finally came the sounds of the front door opening and closing, familiar steps through the hallway, and Gibbs would recognise that tread coming down his basement staircase even in his dreams. Gibbs refused to look at him, keeping his eyes stubbornly on his boat.

 

"You know, after three months of you giving me the cold shoulder, I kinda figured you would let up just a little."

 

Gibbs' head jerked up. The fucking _balls on him._ "Me? Giving you the cold shoulder? _You're the one who fucking left, DiNozzo!"_ roared Gibbs. He glared across at Tony, who had the audacity to look surprised at him. The starving beast in his belly sided with the trained killer, and Leroy Jethro Gibbs was completely certain that his life would be a shit tonne more simple if he just happened to not have _Anthony Fucking DiNozzo_ in it.

 

_Simpler, Gibbs, but a lot less happier_ , whispered a ghost in his ear.

 

_"Gibbs._ I didn't leave _you,"_ Tony looked horrified by the very idea, face paling rapidly. "I left work, for a little while. Ziva and Tali's home had just been burned down. Surely you don't begrudge me for taking time to care for one of my best friends, and my goddaughter?" Tony sounded incredulous, and confused, and even hurt, and Gibbs had no idea what Tony was playing at.

 

"Goddaughter? Try daughter. We both know that little girl is _yours_ , DiNozzo. _Tali looks just like you."_ Gibbs only barely managed to keep his voice from cracking, as _hurt_ and as _furious_ as he was. He'd thought that Tony was different. Why did so many of his partners cheat on him? Sure, Diane's string of affairs had been his fault for his treating her like a _"human anti-depressant"_ , and Rebecca had been pretty fucked up in ways that had had nothing to do with him, and he couldn't exactly blame Stephanie after all the extra hours he'd deliberately put in at work after she'd brought up the subject of _kids_ because he sure as fuck hadn't been ready for more kids back then.

 

But _Tony?_ Was just staring at him, eyes wide. "Well, yeah, Gibbs, biologically she's mine. But I'm not her dad and I'm not raising her, Ziva wants to do that on her own."

 

Gibbs laughed and choked back tears. "Oh because that's so much better." Gibbs shook his head. " _I know you, Tony,_ you think that for all that you show the world that playboy mask that I don't see right through it? All you have _ever_ wanted is to have a family. You were goddamn _engaged to be married to Wendy_ when we first met." Gibbs pushed up from his stool and stalked over to Tony, getting right up in his face. "You think I don't know how much you want a partner and kid and happily ever after?"

 

"I thought I was gonna have that with you," said Tony, his breath hitching and jaw clenching. "Do you not want me anymore?"

 

Gibbs stared at Tony, disbelieving but looking at someone he knew better than anyone. He knew that expression, he knew it well. It was Tony's _this is hurting like hell, but do your worst, I dare you_ expression, his _DiNozzos don't cry_ face.

 

Tony's lower lip trembled. His _my beloved corvette was stolen and crashed and the driver fucking lived but my car is fucking totalled_ trembling lower lip. "Jesus Christ, Tony. I always want you." _Gibbs had been smiling and laughing at him a little but only because he'd known exactly where the perfect Mustang upgrade had been waiting for a new owner._ "Of course I fucking want you. I've been in love with you since you tackled me to the ground in Baltimore, since the instant my eyes met yours, Tony, you bonehead," said Gibbs, ducking his head and rubbing at his neck.

 

Tony's jaw dropped. He stammered, "Wh-what?"

 

"I'm not repeating it!" snapped Gibbs, cheeks and ears burning with embarrassment. "You heard me the first time." _You should have already known._

 

"Uh, well, I-"

 

"Don't, Tony. Just stop." Gibbs held up a hand.

 

Tony's mouth shut with a click. Before opening again, because he was Anthony DiNozzo and he _never_ shut up. "Then I don't understand," frustration roughened his voice, "You love me. I love you. What's the problem? Why are you so mad with me? Is it because I left that morning? I panicked, okay? But for you to spend _three months_ ignoring me is a bit extreme!" Tony crossed his arms over his chest, the move distracting to Gibbs in the way it broadened Tony's shoulders, bulked out his biceps, and flexed his forearm muscles, especially clear with just the thin clinging knit sweater that Tony was wearing.

 

Gibbs swallowed, his ears ringing with Tony's _I love you_. "I don't want to share you with Ziver." He'd meant to sound commanding, but instead hated how childish and plaintive and quiet his words had been, hated how jealous he sounded saying his old nickname for _one of his kids._

 

Tony's eyebrows shot up, bewildered. "What does Ziva have to do with anything? She and I had a one night stand because she was lonely and I thought I'd never have you! Neither of us wants each other in the way you and me want each other!" Tony huffed and grumbled under his breath, darting little daggers at Gibbs from beneath his lashes. "And that one night stand was ages ago!"

 

"You just spent three months with her, Tony, in your apartment. What the fuck do you expect me to think, huh?" Gibbs jabbed a finger into Tony's folded forearm.

 

"Damn it, Gibbs, I expect you to trust me!" Tony's eyes flashed fire. "Me! _Anthony Your Loyal Saint Bernard DiNozzo!"_ His arms uncrossed, straightening, and his hands clenched into fists. "I expect you to believe me when I tell you I love you!" Tony shifted forward, brawling fists relaxing into pianist fingers and cupping Gibbs' cheeks. Tony pressed their foreheads together, noses touching lightly and eyes locked. "I expect you to know that I couldn't possibly want someone else after you've ruined me for anyone bar you."

 

Gibbs bit his lip and looked down from Tony's intense gaze. He wondered how much of the last three months' lack of communication was because of his own insecurity versus Tony's insecurity. He thought of the months after Tony and Zoe Keates had split, months of painfully denying even the tiniest possibility of _Tony liking me like that_. He weighed up Tony's words against Tony's actions. He thought of Tony walking down his basement stairs, a hundred times, a thousand times. One night Tony had pressed him belly up against one of the bare ribs of his boat and used his hand to turn Gibbs' chin for a sweet mind-fuck kiss over his shoulder. It had felt out of the blue and inevitable all at once.

 

He seemed to recall that it was _Tony_ who had done the _ruining._ He thought of how Tony had proceeded to nibble along his jaw, push up his shirt and kiss down his spine to lick into his asshole and then give him the best fuck of his entire life. It'd been interspersed with _laughter_ and _way too much lube,_ even for a first time, and _"fuck, sorry Gibbs, I dropped the condom, give me a sec' to open up my back-up one."_ Tony had used his hands to open him up and guide his cockhead in, and then given his left hand to Gibbs to have something warm and slick to slide his dick into, and his right to tightly grip Gibbs' own right hand. " _Easy partner, I got you,  you're alright. Just relax and let me in. God, Gibbs, I love you. I promise, this is gonna feel so, so good. Wait, should I be calling you Jethro? Or Leroy?"_   Gibbs had laughed and laughed, _"You can call me anything you want,"_ and didn't stop hiccupping laughter until Tony had eased his dick in nice and slow and Gibbs could barely breathe with just how good it felt. Tony had brought up their joined hands, kissing his palm before moving their hands to cover Gibbs' heart and making true on his word. _"Gibbs it is, then."_

 

He'd woken that following morning, his ass sore and disgustingly wet, his hips aching with fingerprint bruises, and yet he'd had to smile at Tony's drool on his shoulder. He'd been happier in that instant, wrapped in Tony's arms, than he'd been for the last couple of decades of his life, and he'd scrambled away, scared shitless that now that he actually had the man of his dreams, that his partner was gonna be used against him, or the worst, _his boy would be taken from him - just like his girls had been_. He'd locked himself in the bathroom for an hour or more under the shower, and Tony had been gone from the bed when he'd finally stopped panicking and started breathing and made it out. He thought of Tony's _"I panicked, okay?"_ He thought of the _clusterfuck shit-storm_ that had happened that very same day, night, week at work. The attack on Ziva. Everyone's discovery of Tali.

 

Finally, Gibbs thought of the way that Tony was holding still, and still here, and holding on after all this time, and the gentle way Tony's thumb was rubbing his cheek. He factored in the way Tony was _letting him take his own sweet damn time to think and to talk,_ and that was pretty much the icing on the cake, wasn't it?

 

Gibbs breathed in deeply and raised his eyes to meet Tony's gaze. His intensity not faded, but gentled somehow,  like Tony actually _got it._ Like Tony had somehow actually managed to follow his entire train of thought as easily as he did when they were taking turns interrogating a suspect, totally in synch, or like the first day they met and _Detective DiNozzo_ had kept up, laying out all of Gibbs' plan, and left Danny trailing behind in the dirt.

 

Gibbs took one more moment to think over what he wanted to say and to seize every bit of courage, because he had to get this right, he wanted to do this right. Tony deserved to have someone who was gonna do right by him, even if it took a little longer than it probably should.

 

"I'm sorry for not picking up the phone, Tony." Gibbs rubbed his nose gently against Tony's. "I know a relationship takes two people working at it to make it work. I promise I'll do better in future, if you'll let me."

 

Tony gave his shy grin, the real one. "I'll let you, if you'll let me."

 

Gibbs hesitated, but raising his hands to rest on Tony's shoulders, he couldn't resist adding, "Please, just promise me that you won't let us go without talking, properly, for three months, _ever again_."

 

Tony nodded, still happily grinning. "Yeah, that was my bad as well, I'm sorry. It does take two. I guess we deserve each other." 

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to any person, who like me, is disappointed that after over a decade of NCIS, we still have haven't had any good representation of LBGTQIA characters - what with them being the villain and getting shot, or murdered in an explosion, or dying from illness; that yet another female character was fridged - Ziva was essentially murdered for manpain; that believes having a child should be a choice you choose 10,000% because you are ready for and want a child, and not because of DNA; and that thinks that DiNozzo deserved a promotion as Weatherly's exit instead of forced single parenthood. I'm not too happy with the writers right now. At least this frustration has cracked my writer's block. 
> 
> If there are any concerns with how I have tagged or not tagged this work, please do leave a comment. I'm happy to talk about it, and potentially willing to negotiate. Also, I think I've been fairly clear with this work's timeline, but let me know if you get confused, I'll explain or edit the fic.
> 
> I do hope that people enjoy this work, as it was made with more love for the characters than frustration at the scriptwriters. Also, I really would appreciate as much constructive criticism as you're willing to give! This is my first attempt at fanfiction instead of my usual original fiction. So, thank you very, very much for reading this far.
> 
> Cheers,  
> Edmond.  
> 


End file.
